


you're not easy to find

by hanzios



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, And they were soulmates, Canon compliant... Ish, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanzios/pseuds/hanzios
Summary: Soulmate. It was weird calling someone that.Even weirder that it wasn’t his boyfriend.-OR: Mackson Soulmate AU, Post-S3 Finale (because why not?)
Relationships: Bryan & Nathan Miller, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	you're not easy to find

Miller never believed in soulmates, but ever since they started dating, he’d always hoped it was Bryan.

Maybe it was more a matter of convenience. Or maybe he truly _did_ love him more than he thought. Miller never knew; he was never good with dealing with his feelings. All he knew was that there were three words tattooed on his left arm since childhood, and one day he expected Bryan to say them verbatim.

Still, the idea of soulmates was stupid, anyway. In a world full of death and violence, the thought that everyone had this _one person_ that could somehow make everything okay was close to impossible. He’d heard stories of soulmates meeting countless of times, but Miller never cared much for it, which is why he tried to keep it at the back of his mind, putting all focus on his current relationship.

After the whole A.L.I.E. thing grinded to a halt, Miller pressed his head on Bryan’s chest, the other boy massaging his back. He was tired. He was always tired.

“Hey, you okay?” Miller stood up, a hand on his boyfriend.

Bryan looked pale. “Yeah, I’m–“ He staggered forward, Miller catching him on his arms.

“ _Hey._ ” He gently helped Bryan to a sitting position on the floor, eyeing the wound on the boy’s left leg. “Dr. Griffin? We need a little help here!” Miller called out, one hand on Bryan’s thigh.

Instead of her, though, it was Jackson who rushed over to them. He knelt in front of Bryan, back on work mode after recovering from being brainwashed just a few moments ago.

“What happened here?” Jackson asked, with the same calm and gentle voice Miller came to know.

“Uh, he–he got shot earlier,” Miller stammered out. “I tried wrapping the wound, but I think it’s infected.” With the mention of an infection, the back of Jackson’s hand touched Bryan’s forehead.

“You’re right,” he replied. The young ~~handsome~~ doctor moved in swift motion, opening his med kit and rifling through small vials of ointments. Miller could only watch him while rubbing circles on Bryan’s thigh.

“Here.” Jackson took out a small bottle of medicine and looked at Miller. “Lift his leg up so I can remove the bandage and apply the antibiotic.”

Miller did as he was told, turning to his boyfriend. “You’re gonna be okay, Bry. It’s just a scratch.”

Bryan grunted, a small smile on his face. “Scratch hurts.” Suddenly, he winced in pain, hand grabbing Miller’s.

“Sorry,” Jackson said lowly, a sheepish look on his face. Huh. Cute.

“I think it’s _me_ who needs to apologize,” Miller blurted out, looking at the doctor.

“What do you mean?”

“We electrocuted you earlier,” he replied, shrugging apologetically. “During the fight.”

Jackson smiled kindly, pausing in the middle of unwrapping fresh new bandages. “Don’t worry. _That wasn’t me_ , that was A.L.I.E.”

As soon as he said those words, Miller’s left forearm started to sting. He gritted his teeth as he felt the slight bout of pain, and it only took him half a second to realize what had just occurred. He was staring at Jackson, who had already begun his work on Bryan’s leg, oblivious.

_Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._

“Nate? You okay?”

 _Not here. Not_ now.

“ _Nate._ Earth to Nate?”

Seeming to snap out of a trance, Miller turned to Bryan, who was looking at him with furrowed brows. “Are you okay?”

With a signature smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Miller said, “Better than you, anyway.” He placed a warm hand on his boyfriend’s hair, trying his best not to look at his… soulmate… who was there with them.

 _Soulmate._ It was weird calling someone that.

Weirder that it wasn’t his boyfriend.

“All done,” Jackson spoke up again. Miller avoided his eyes. “Just change the bandages daily and you’ll be good as new.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” Bryan said, grateful. Miller didn’t reply.

When a tense silence came over them, Jackson pat Bryan’s leg before rising to his feet to treat the other patients. There were still a million things running over Miller’s head, all of them unpleasant to entertain.

Was Jackson _really_ his soulmate? Or was it just a funny coincidence?

Did Jackson know that they were soulmates?

How the hell was he gonna tell Bryan _this_?

His thoughts were cut short when he heard Kane call for him.

“Jackson, treat as much people as you can here,” he ordered, authoritative but still clearly rattled by the day’s events. “Miller, go help him with whatever he needs. We’ll be leaving after everyone can properly walk back to Arkadia.”

Miller nodded silently. He turned back to Bryan, who had absolutely no clue at what had just happened.

“Duty calls,” Bryan grinned.

Miller’s smile was empty. “Yeah.”

He stood up and immediately found the doctor near the table, an array of equipment and medicine laid out in front of him. The man was grabbing at the antiseptics, Miller focusing on his hands.

“Hey.” Jackson ~~(his soulmate??)~~ was looking at him in curiosity. “You look pale. You sure you’re not hurt?”

Miller shifted his focus to the medicine, purposelessly, unhelpfully touching the bottles of antibiotics. He shook his head. “Nope. I’m fine.”

Jackson didn’t press the issue any further. The two of them then proceeded to help the injured in the room, both Grounders and Skaikru, with Miller doing whatever Jackson needed him to do. They worked in sync with each other, mostly in comfortable silence. Miller, at times, kept sneaking glances at Jackson’s face – focused and held the gentle strength that has always drawn Miller in.

In the small instances they talked in-between treating people, Miller expected it all to be awkward. But, no. Their conversations were easy, comfortable. Even though he was burdened with this life-changing information, Miller still managed to find peace as he worked with Jackson.

They continued on like that until the last person was treated.

When it ended, Miller just gave him a smile before returning to Bryan’s side.

He didn’t see the doctor’s confused look following him as he went, nor the hint of sadness accompanying them.

+

They broke up. Surprisingly, it wasn’t about the soulmate thing.

Miller didn’t want to keep it a secret from Bryan, so two days after the revelation, he told him what had happened. Bryan, taken aback and hurt, had asked if Miller wanted to break up so he could be with his soulmate. But Miller just shook his head.

_“Of course not,” he’d said, a hand on Bryan’s. “I told you this because you deserve to know. I still want us to work out.”_

They didn’t. About a week later, they came to a relationship-ending disagreement that, well, ended their relationship. That was when Miller realized how different they’ve become. And that no matter how hard they tried, some things just weren’t meant to be.

He’s been avoiding Bryan since their break-up.

He’s been avoiding Jackson for longer.

As much as possible, he steered away from Medical, afraid that he’d run into the doctor and have these stupid feelings once again. When he actually _did_ need to go, he’d make sure he talked to Dr. Griffin instead. It was a tough task, since Jackson was almost always on Abby’s side. But Miller managed.

Until present day, anyway.

Clarke had assigned him to the Nightblood expedition. Guess who else was in it.

His _soulmate_.

His stupid, oblivious soulmate.

His very kind, very smart, very attractive soulmate.

Miller was fucked.

The journey towards the lab went by worse than they’d hoped. Mere minutes after arriving at the island, Nyko had died and Jackson had gotten himself shot. Miller had never been as panicked as when he tried to stop Jackson’s bleeding, and luckily, Dr. Griffin managed to treat the wound just in time. As they trekked forward, Miller kept looking at the blood on his hands.

_Jackson’s blood._

“You alright there, Miller?” Murphy suddenly strode beside him. “You look… shaken.” Miller was unsure if he was being sincere. But he gotta give him credit. The guy was an asshole, but he sure was perceptive.

“Yeah, why do you care, Murphy?” he retorted, annoyed.

The man put up both of his hands in mock defense. “Geez, sorry for asking.” He shoved his hands on his pockets and walked up to the front next to his soulmate.

They’ve heard all about their love story when they drove around the Dead Zone. It made Miller jealous and a little bit bitter at how easily they just… clicked. Meanwhile, here he was trying to avoid _his_ soulmate at all costs.

His soulmate who got shot.

His soulmate who could’ve died.

There was an unpleasant feeling at the pit of Miller’s gut at the sudden realization of Jackson’s mortality. His eyes drifted once again to the red blood in between his fingers.

His morbid thoughts were interrupted by an announcement that they’d reached their destination. Miller wiped his hands on his pants in a weak attempt to stop thinking about it any longer. 

They entered the lab, and after about an hour of exploration, their crew retreated to the mansion just a few ways north. Miller quickly took a shower (as quick as he could, considering all the confusing buttons he had to push in order to even get the water out of the shower head) and changed into the fresh clothes from the closet. He felt like a king, even in a plain grey sweater and pants. He tried to go to bed, but he just couldn’t.

It was already one in the morning when he descended the marble steps, fully intending to take advantage of the fully-stocked pantry in the kitchen. When he reached his destination, it seemed as though he wasn’t the only one who had the same thought.

“ _Oh._ ” Miller let out when he found Jackson rifling through the shelves. He looked like he’d also taken a shower, black hair a mess on top of his head. He was wearing a fitted black shirt – something that highlighted his surprisingly toned biceps. As Jackson was looking through the top shelf, his shirt rode up a little, revealing a bit of skin.

Miller gulped, absentmindedly biting his lip.

“Hey,” Jackson said, grabbing something canned before placing it on the island. “You hungry?”

Miller merely nodded, striding beside him, a respectable distance between them. “How’s your arm?” he asked, gaze landing on the bandages under Jackson’s sleeve.

“Physically, fine,” Jackson replied, opening the food with a can opener. “Emotionally? Getting shot is… definitely something.” There was a small chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“You’ll get used to it,” Miller said, turning around and jumping to sit on the island. Jackson snorted.

“I hope not.”

He watched the doctor as he readied the pan, moving intricately as if he was performing a surgery. Miller briefly wondered if there was anything Jackson wasn’t good at. He bet the answer would be none.

As soon as the canned food and other ingredients met with the pan, they greeted each other with a loud sizzle, the smell of processed meat wafting through the air. When Jackson finished cooking, he took out two plates and spoons, placing his finished product all over them. Smiling, he gave a plate to Miller, while he himself stood in front of him, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Miller took one bite of the food and moaned. Jackson smiled.

“Oh, this is _so good,_ ” he praised, taking another quick bite.

Jackson shrugged, humble. “It’s just a few ingredients mixed together. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re good at that, too.”

The other man laughed, shaking his head. Before Miller could take a bite, he spotted something behind Jackson. He set down his plate and walked towards him, pushing him away gently with a touch on his arm.

Miller grabbed the bottle of wine and grinned, wiggling it in front of Jackson’s face.

“I bet this goes great with your little dish, doc.” He easily popped open the cork, wasting no time in taking a swig straight from the bottle. The rich, fruity taste wafted his tongue. When he finished, he offered it to Jackson.

“Come on, Jackson,” he insisted. “It’s better than moonshine.”

With a small smile, Jackson put down his plate and took a demure sip of the bottle. His eyes went wide. “It’s _really_ good.” He took another sip before handing the wine back to Miller.

“Right?” He grinned, taking a drink.

After he downed a couple gulps of the wine, he turned to Jackson and suddenly the man’s expression had gotten somber. Miller wondered if the man was tipsy and a _hell_ of a lightweight, but knew that that wasn’t the case. Somehow, he’d already figured out what Jackson was going to say before he even said it.

“Why have you been avoiding me the past few weeks?”

Miller swallowed, setting the bottle back down on the counter. “Look, I…”

“Is it because of the soulmate thing?”

Now _that,_ Miller wasn’t expecting. He gaped at Jackson. “Wait. H–How long have you known?”

“Long,” was his reply. Miller raised a brow, inquiring further. After a sigh, Jackson continued, “The day you got back from Mount Weather.” He lifted his left arm, the words ‘ _It ain’t that bad, doc’_ tattooed across his skin.

Without thinking, Miller traced his fingers lightly on Jackson’s arm, reading the inscription over and over again. After a second, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “But… why didn’t you tell me?” When he turned to Jackson, the man had this painful look in his eyes.

“At first, I didn’t know if you already realized it,” he explained. “But then I found out you have a boyfriend. So I just… I didn’t want to tell you. I’ve moved on.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Miller said, “Had.”

“Huh?”

“I _had_ a boyfriend. We broke up.”

“Wait, why?”

“Among our other issues, I realized I _did_ have a soulmate. And it wasn’t him.”

Jackson’s eyebrows knitted together.

Instead of speaking, Miller rolled up his left sleeve and revealed the ‘ _That wasn’t me’_ on his arm. Jackson’s own tattooed arm floated beside his, and a tingling sensation developed deep in Miller’s chest.

“So you were avoiding me because…”

“…Because I really liked you and I didn’t want to face my feelings?” Miller supplemented, the truth in his words sliding out like honey. When he looked up, Jackson’s face was mere inches away.

In a burst of bravery, Miller leaned forward, snaking his hand on the back of Jackson’s head. The moment their lips met, it was as if everything suddenly fell into place. A pair of hands grabbed his hips, pulling him closer into him. Miller stumbled forward, gently pushing Jackson so he could press the doctor against the pantry door.

“You know,” Miller whispered in between breaths, staring at Jackson’s big brown eyes. “Maybe this whole soulmate thing isn’t so stupid after all.”

“Nice conclusion,” replied Jackson. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

He didn’t have time to be bewildered at the man’s newfound confidence, but suffice to say, Miller was turned on. And so he did what Jackson needed him to do, their little make-out session ending up on their bedroom later in the night.


End file.
